Pacifica's Deal
by Tewanna
Summary: So, yea, okay. No, she won't admit, but yes, she kinda likes that Pines kid. Ok, fine. But then, if she won't admit it, how does the weird triangle-thingy she just met know about it? And what's with this thing he has about "deals"...?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 – An introduction of some kind**

Ah, yes.

The grand and superb Northwest's family annual high-society shindig ball-soirée. Such a beautiful event. Everything had been made perfect for this unique occasion. Many commoners of this modest town have spent hours dreaming about sharing such an overwhelming fanciness for as much as a split-second with these gods of modern society.

Actually, most of the pre-teen aged girls have charred an intimate hug with their television screen with the hope of creating, by the contact of their cheek with the Northwest's daughter's recorded pictures, some sort of magical exchange of lifestyles.

Because this over-makuped 12 year-old blond was probably one of the richest girls in all of Oregon, and one of the luckiest, for that matter. She was going to be one of the hosts of this magnificent party, get to meet all the rich people, all the out-of-league boys, drink all their fancy wine, eat all their fancy food in her fancy silverware with fancy fancy people.

Puh. Just because she happens to be the natural child of the richest family in town.

What a rip-off.

Yet, this girl, so rich she would be able to whip her valuable tears with 100$ bills, was feeling down as this grand party. The visible proof of this last statement was how interestingly sad she seemed to find her shoes. Now, to be fair, there might have been a good numbers of reasons of why her 12-year-old sized high heels would make her cry. First off, an army of previously unwelcomed commoners had just barged in and was completely wrecking the fancy party. But that wasn't why she was crying. It wasn't either because she had just ashamed (or honored, depending on the point of view) her family name by opening the door to the mansion and allowing all these people to joyously destroy her house. Nor because these joyous people were jumping in their cider fountain and scratching their backs with the family's silver forks.

No, what was making this famous and glamour girl feel so bad was how this incredible mess – which she was actually enjoying, surprisingly – was probably never going to occur again. Her family would make sure of that. And the boy, who had tried so hard to cheer her up, eyeing her at this very moment with concern, couldn't change anything about it.

That, was why she was sadly looking at her feet.

An uncomfortable silence had fallen between her and her guest, who was simultaneously the boy who had partially saved and destroyed the event. She had just told him how she knew this wouldn't last. But a half-smile crept upon his face.

"Hey, guess what we're standing on."

Suddenly, she realized something she hadn't noticed about her feet, to busy feeling depressed about the fate of this world.

They were muddy. No wait. They were muddy AND they were ruining a certain carpet that happened to be her parent's favorite pattern. She smiled devilishly.  
Feeling like she was getting revenge for her family's unethical behavior, she squashed the smelly mixture upon the carpet as if it were they stupid face while her accomplice purposely made a platter of drink splatter on the floor with an apologetic "Whoops!".

They both laughed at their rudimentary twelve-year-old sense of humor before Pacifica, feeling like she had acknowledged her need for revenge and was starting to fear the wrath of her parents, announced she needed to get someone to clean it up.

Later that night, as she was waving goodbye to both the boy and her hyperactive twin sister, she happened to think that she had just spent one of the best evenings of her life (even though it had been a threat to her life at some point). Nevertheless, she was now starting to think that the Pines family – even though they were obviously to affiliated with the other commoners that crawl the streets of this town to actually be her friends – was, well… Maybe… Not so bad. I mean, when you put aside their shameful lack of money, that is.

"Pacifica my dear!" resonated with anger an adult male voice.  
Ah, now was the time for her sentence, she though with a sigh. Oh well. Might as well get it over with.

"How DARE you let in those…! Those…!

\- Hum, people…?" she tried, hesitant,

\- They nearly KILLED us!" He went on, refusing to acknowledge them as human beings. "Lack of manners, money and/or of basic refinement classes is the beginning of decadence in our society! And rubbing elbows with these creatures might infect us with it!

\- I agree with you father, honey." Confirmed her mother as she invited herself in the conversation, ignoring a quail that seemed to have elected her disemboweled hair as a new nest. "You have disgraced our family name. Why did you…? You know."

\- Hum…" She tried again, "Save everyone's life…?

\- Yes… Why not. Let's call it that. Anyway, it was wrong. And I hope you learned your lesson, missy! And I am sorry for doing this, but you need proper punishment. No credit card for a week!

\- Wait, what?" Pacifica panicked, "But…! But mom…!

\- Listen to your mother, Pacifica." Replied her father with a tone indicating the end of the conversation. "We must make it clear to you that a Northwest cannot go on doing whatever it wants, especially during social events. We are not...! You know... People! Now go put yourself to bed, we have a lot of cleaning to do tomorrow."

Pacifica groaned. Letting all the town's people in might not have been such a good idea after all, considering the mess they left behind. Cleaning up? Yuk! She had to watch the servants do it! and it was absolutely exhausting. She had to actually stand up, give directions and tell them to hurry up. Ugh! There better be icy tropical juice or Jesus Christ she wouldn't survive!  
Letting out a heavy sigh, she started towards the stairs when her father shot a sharp glare at her as if he had suddenly remembered about a squashed insect decorating his impeccable car.

"By the way, dear.

\- Yes, father?"

He squinted his eyes, as if trying to sound more professional about his inquiry.

"That boy lacking proper clothes with a hygiene problem, what's-his-name…

\- Oh, you mean Dipper?" She finished with a smile, happily reminding herself of the nerdy boy.

"Yes, yes," he waved away with a roll of his eyes as if wondering why bother giving a name to someone with so little money. "I saw you pretend to get along with him – well played, well played. I just hope you didn't make him believe he was, you know… Invited to come back, in any way, or that you had any intentions of losing your time hanging out, or whatever young people call it these days. I mean, it's not like you appreciate him, or anything, right?

\- Are you kidding me?" She laughed it off a bit to nervously, "Of course not! I mean, he is kind of sweet and cool to be around and stuff (for someone so unused to tuxedos that he started having an allergy), but I mean come on – can you seriously imagine me lying awake at night thinking about a guy like him?"

That night.

"…"

"Somehow, I do seem to find the irony in this."


	2. Chapter 2

Jesus Christ! What on earth are all these sudden messages flooding my e-mail account about people following my story?! How on earth did this get so popular so fast?! How did I...?! (And thinking English isn't even my first language to START with! Damn, what an ego boost!) Man, I'm feeling under pressure now, 'cause I want you people to feel like that one-click effort was worth it… Ok, phew! I hope you guys enjoy this as much as the first chapter, then! Pleasepleaseplease enjoy it! Thank you so much for reading! Don't forget to review! (By the way, how do I answer reviews...? HOW DOES IT WORK ?)

*8*

 **Like, chapter 2, or whatever.**

Yes, that night at the mansion had been one of the most exhausting one she had ever lived in her short 12 year-old life. And that's without even taking into account the next morning! They were OUT of tropical juice, so she had to make do with…

My God…

W… Water!

Even though it was directly extracted from the purest source of the purest mountain of Oregon, just thinking about that fanciless and tasteless mixture made her sick. Yuck!

Thankfully, it was short. Pleading for mercy that she needed fresh air and real entertainment from all this boredom of having to watch people work, her parents agreed to let her borrow their third car, as well as their 12th chauffeur, to accomplish the much higher purpose of taking a stroll around town. By the way, they really needed to stop sewing all their drivers, or they'll actually have to look for one next time.

Anyway, here she was. She had just picked up her two friends, which names she hadn't caught yet, and brought them around to the local park. Now, usually she doesn't esteem parks to be worthy of her greatness and perfection, but the park happened to have been recently bought and restored by her parent's huge fortune. Ah, yes. Marble and leather for swings? Yes, that was MUCH better, thank you.

But reminding herself she had money got boring eventually, especially since she was credit-cardless for another 6 days and 13 hours. How unbearable. She needed to find yet another cruel way to bring back up her low self-esteem. Speaking of which, she had just noticed a couple of young 9 year-old boys playing around with a set of old torn-out cards. She took a minute to evaluate how big was the social gap between them before agreeing with herself that even if they DID want to sew her, they wouldn't have either the guts or the means to take such a distinguished action.

Without saying a word as if she would start spitting out gold if she spoke any more than she had to, she motioned the attention of her followers towards the unsuspecting happy children.

They grinned, which in their cult language meant: "Yes, lord and master. You have stroke again, finding the perfect sacrifices for your rising greatness. How amazing, yet typically wonderful of you. Yes, lord and master, we SHALL follow and support thou while sucking their self-esteem out of them."

Yea, they knew where they place was. They might actually last a little longer than her two last friends, whatever their names were. Well, it was irrelevant anyway.

She advanced like a model going down a runway before taking a sharp kick towards the deck of nerd-cards, making them splatter in front of the both equally horrified children.

"What's up, nerds!" She stated with an evil laugh that made her diamond earrings dangle, "What, you are seriously attached to this garbage? What's the big deal? It's just torn out paper with stupid pictures on them!"

Boy, was tormenting the weak fun!

"Our… Our daddy gave it to us, saying he used to play with it when he was a kid…" One of the kid explained with teary eyes, "We were just trading, we weren't…

\- Are you serious right now?" She explained along her accomplices' laughs, "You mean there AREN'T brand new? Hah! You guys really ARE poor! I'm sorry you have so little money that you have to entertain herself with your parents' toys! How materialistic!"

No, that wasn't ironical in any way.

"You know what?" She continued, watching with satisfaction both little boys starting to cry, "Actually, no. I don't feel sorry for you. I mean, worthless toys are suitable to worthless…

\- PACIFICA!" Suddenly echoed a raging, yet surprised, voice she immediately recognized.

With a gulp, she suddenly regretted picking on commoners so openly. She had just attracted the attention of the last person she wanted to see right now.

"HEY!" Shouted out to her the boy that had helped her open the gates of her mansion to the people of this town, "Pacifica, what the HECK do you think you're doing?" She cringed, hitting herself mentally. Yes, she was usually glad to see him, but couldn't he stumble upon her while she was saving a sick puppy or something?

The young arriver shot a quick look at the scene which involved two crying, defenseless children with a spilled out card game at their feet while three bullies were having the time of their life. I mean, except for Pacifica. She had stopped laughing as soon as she heard the pre-teen's crackly voice. "Were you making fun of them?!" He shouted, scandalized, "I can't believe it! What, did you forget everything that happened at your own mansion? What's wrong with you! People aren't animals, man! Leave them alone!"

"Oh, come on, Dippity-Dipper!" squealed a wild twin that had suddenly appeared by his side while both victimized boys stared at him with awe and admiration, "She was just giving them advice! I mean, those cards are dirty, and she was kicking them away from them so their hands weren't get dirty! She was about to offer buying a brand new cleany-clean deck! Right, Pacifica…?"

She was sincerely trying to help her, Pacifica gratefully noticed. She looked desperately at her, giving her every signal possible ever to just go along and agree. She might actually really want to help her… Or get her brother out of trouble, she wasn't sure.

"Oh yea?" Teased one of the two insignificant bullies, "What're you gonna do about it? Glare at her to death?" Pacifica's temporary friends started laughing, curse them! What an embarrassment! And in front of him? WHY?

But Dipper cared so little he didn't seem to even so much as hear them, same as her own sister's voice. His ears would only hear a sincere apology from one and only girl. And, while he was patiently fulminating, waiting for her reaction, the boy had crossed his arms, signaling he didn't plan to move anytime soon. Because what he was pressuring wasn't anything anyone else knew about. That death stare was asking her how she could do such a thing after what they had been through at the mansion, how he thought she would behave from now on, or at least TRY.

Man, he was adorable when he was mad. Just like an angry kitten! So cute! Even though she WAS kind of impressed by how he didn't seem to suffer any influence whatsoever from the social pressures. How did he do it? She could never pull off such a positional statement and ASSUME it. I mean, it was kind of weird… And cool…

She suddenly felt a little too hot, even though the temperature was just right on this sunny day. What was with this sudden heat, especially in her cheeks? Did her pastry chef use out of date ingredients in that morning's croissants? If that was the case, she was so going to sew him.

Wait…

Oh…

Ooooooooooh no… She…

DAMMIT SHE WAS BLUSHING!

"Yes, well…" She starting to reply to the non-wavering glare while she discretely reached down to her out-of-price purse, looking in the depths of the small content holder for foundation makeup. Gratefully praying for the gods' clemency, she held up a small palm-sized mirror and started hiding the traitoress color of her skin through a thick layer of artificial product as if the twins weren't even worth her stare. Yet, she didn't seem to know what to respond. She couldn't seem to find the courage to put up with him like she used to, especially since she knew SHE was in the wrong. Maybe.

Curse you, biological attraction!

But he just seemed to assume it was because she was feeling too guilty to answer to her own behavior. In any case, he waited, while they all seemed to await expectantly her words.

"Yea, whatever." She finally answered, handing over a couple of bills to the children she had previously tried to humiliate while her followers couldn't seem to believe their eyes. "'Not my fault they took it personally."

A huge sigh of relief resonated from Dipper's sister, who gladly hunched her brother. "See, brosef? You were just overreacting! Now let's get some ice cream, I am STARVING!" she chanted as she danced away, expecting her brother to follow her very shortly.

And indeed, Dipper seemed somehow attracted to his sister's invitation. But he wasn't done quite yet.

"Fine, you saved yourself an apology." The boy argued, "But I just can't believe you would do such a thing! Didn't yesterday mean anything to you? I…" He suddenly looked sadly disappointed before finally looked up again, "I thought you'd changed. Looks like I may've been wrong."

And, even though he finally left, Pacifica didn't seem to hear her fellow bullies trying to get her to explain what had just happened. All she could see was the boy's back, which his wild sister seem to be making fun of about the way he was talking to Pacifica, for some reason.

Dipper was, like, the ONLY person who seemed to consider her as a decent human being, and she had just been stupid enough to convince him otherwise.

So, yea. She DID like him. But if she had ever been sure of anything, is that that it didn't work in both directions.

*8*


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Stupid, stupid, STUPID!" She moaned with half-clenched hands. There were two reasons for these impeccable hands to be expressing such inner rage: first of all, clenching them the full way would ruin her nail-polish. And second of all and most obviously, she was frustrated. Because of that stupid, stupid child. Like, how could anyone make her feel, you know… Bad… About reminding someone they didn't have as much money as she did? He had no right to affect someone as important to society as herself! He was just a kid! (Not that the fact that he was as old as her mattered in any way). And such a disgraceful emotion should not invade a Northwest's personal space. Why? WHY was this so complicated? He's just a SWEATY, NERDY, VOICE-CRACKING, TWELVE YEAR OLD BOY!

Okay. Calming down. Breath in, breath out. Like she learned in yoga class.

She delicately grabbed a medium quality crystal vase that would sit in her room in case of emergencies like this and threw it on the ground as powerfully as she could so the violent chattering would sooth her frustration.

"Next." She commended by snapping her fingers while an emotionless butler swept away the rests of her materialized wrath off the floor without letting out any signs of his boredom. He had been there before. A maid came in, bringing another crystal vase just as beautiful and shiny as the last one, and dusted it off one last time before putting it at the exact same place as its predecessor.

But no, she wasn't done expressing her inner emotions. She grabbed her next victim with fury, embodying in its fine carving everything she hated about her situation, and was about to bring the poor thing down when the sound of a little bell rang at her door.

"Pacifica dear." Said her father peaking, not even bothering to wonder what she was doing or why she seemed so destructive. People have urges. Not his business. He paused the miniature instrument so he could be heard. "It's time to go to bed.

\- NO!" Spat a rampaging pre-teenager.

"Pacifica…" He tried to bring her back to reason.

"NO!

\- Pacifica!

\- NO!

\- …Go to bed."

So there she was. In bed. Arms crossed as she glared at the ceiling like she was going to rip the painting off of it. She was mad at the universe for making him show up at the wrong place at the wrong time. Yea. It was the universe's fault. And she was mad because he wouldn't bow before her like everyone else did and should do, no matter what she did. No, she wouldn't feel bad about what she did. And rich people shouldn't have to feel bad, anyway. She would probably try to sew her emotional system. Eventually. Or pay Dipper to like her back. Yea, good idea. That's how it worked, right…?

Suddenly, she heard an eerie laugh echo in the distance. Which sounded rather strange, since all the garden's peacocks had been put away, so one of them couldn't have intruded her room like last time. She reluctantly uncrossed her arms and stood on her elbows, searching the dark room for anything out of the ordinary.

"Hey kid!" resonated an unnerving voice that was ANYTHING but natural. In a blink, that perfectly normal-looking room had a triangle in it. A surrealistic, yellow, glowing, one-eyed triangle with a floating hat and a bowtie.

And it had spoken.

… It was… Alive.

"So!" The geometrical shape resumed in front of his non-responsive speaker, "It would seem you could use my help!"

*8*


	4. Chapter 4

So headed up by all the wonderful reviews and people approving my story by following it, I actually started writing much more than I would have though. As I finished this chapter's first rough, I was going over it on my laptop in French class when my teacher, seeing how little people were actually listening to her class, said with a sigh "J'essaye désespérément de bousculer vos synapses neuronaux…" Now, she has this habit of using unusual expressions, she being a French teacher in a French-speaking country, to let it be known: she knows what she's talking about. And it's actually sort of fun, sometimes. Ah, what a great turn of phrase, I thought. I then turned back to perfecting my story, when it dawned on me it was exactly the type of thing Bill would say.

…

No, I did NOT just put that sentence in this chapter.

*8*

 **How about a fourth chapter, kid?**

Oh, Bill couldn't WAIT for her reaction! One of the things he loved about biological meat bags was the way their faces took all sorts of fun shapes when he suddenly appeared in front of them as if presenting a magic horror show! What was it going to be this time? Was she going to scream? Was she going to cry? Oh boy, how he couldn't wait!

But the girl just flatly stared at him without even pretending out of sheer politeness to be surprised.

"Huh," she boringly speculated to herself, as if noticing a mere thousand dollars had gone missing from her ridiculously overfilled account. "So I guess some of dad's silverware IS still flying around the mansion after all. Man," she added as she took a disgusted look up and down the demon, "and he really has some questionable taste, too… Oh well." She concluded as she went back under her sheets, "I guess I'll just have to warn Gaston about that tomorrow."

And, with these words of pure wisdom, she backed up into her previous lying position, awaiting again for sleep to come and get her.

… No, he hadn't really expected that kind of reaction.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, kid." He eerily warned before dryly snapping his fingers. And that beautifully wood-carved four-poster bed, purposely made to remind each and every guest how wealthy the Northwest family was, velvet silk, animal skin and all – had suddenly turned into a hideous mouth with saliva-dripping razor-sharp teeth. A deep growl from where her head had been a minute ago ringed inside the poor girl's ears. A high-pitched scream of terror resonated, only to find she had been the one who it had originated from. Yet again, in a blink, the whole vision had gone as if it had only been a short nightmare. But the triangle was still there, in front of her, and he was laughing his eye off.

"Nah, just kidding. Though I've really wanted to try that out – I love how this human resting device looks like an open mouth. And- Yeesh! Tune it down, will ya!" he commanded as she led out a second scream. Screams sure were fun, but not when his highness was speaking. Pressing on the bottom button of an invisible remote, he noticed with unhealthy satisfaction her voice going mute even though her face kept shrieking. "Ah, much better!" he added with a frightening giggle, "it's funny when human faces can't work!"

When she seemed to have gone back to normal – not taking into account how she was worryingly verifying her vocal system, her voice suddenly came back to life.

"Who the heck are you?" she cried, "What do you want?

\- The name's Bill Cipher." he cordially answered her question, both hands on his cane's handle, while a third arm shot out of his chest, strangely holding out a professional card out of nowhere. "And I think I can help you with your… Problem."

Now, even though his sadistic behavior tended to rightfully distract her from wanting to trust the strange man, the young girl seemed suddenly interest. She gave him a squinted look, although, considering she obviously had her doubts on the shiny triangle's sanity. Well, I mean, after all, she wouldn't lose anything by just listening to what he had to say, no matter how disturbing that turned out to be. "So, what." She wearingly hypothesized, "are you offering to get me back my credit card…?

\- Hahahaha! Man, I like you! You're so shallow!" He rejoiced by lifting his thin black arms in the air as to celebrate, "But no, I'm here to help you with something else. I've heard something's been on your mind, lately."

But, yet again, her clueless blinking was proof enough that her high-class, million-dollar-the-hour home education hadn't taught her yet how to read between the lines. No, instead she would perplexingly gawk at him as if the words coming out of… Whichever system he used to speak, weren't making any sort of sense.

"Hum," she nevertheless tried, wanting to give the ephemeral illusion she actually knew what he was talking about, "isn't that why they took my credit card away? So I would, you know… Think about what I'd done?

\- Good one!" He said with a delighted tone. Man, this girl's adorable lack of professionalism turned out to be pretty hard to work with, but boy was it entertaining. Unfortunately, he was a busy triangle, and his crowded schedule demanded him to cut all this thrilling playing-around kind of short. He decided, in order to save both of the speakers some valuable dealing time, to cut down his little guessing game to something more straight-to-the-point. "Okay, I'll give you one more try!"

As he sharply snapped once more his fingers, a form slowly started materializing in front of her. It oddly took the shape of a boy with a blue baseball cap which happened to be marked with a pine tree. "Hey, Pacifica!" Dipper shyly spoke with the nicest smile, authorizing himself a hand out of his pocket so he could wave at her.

"What the… ?!" Pacifica chocked, betraying the secret she swore to take with her to her grave by blushing as if she were burning in hell for her sins. She wasn't sure if it was the consequence of a reflex or if she was trying to strangle herself out of her shame. She quickly shot a piercing look in both directions, making sure no one else had noticed her sudden reaction. Yes, even though it was the middle of the night. "How on earth did you… ?"

But before she could even conclude that last sentence, she witnessed with horror the boy's face start to melt, making all his inner bones visible before his whole body structure fell apart and collapsed on her sheets. And, oh what a surprise, Pacifica could only respond with yet another scream. "I know, right?" Excitingly commented a voice while the creature's eye appeared on her silk pillow's fabric. "Isn't he better looking when he's in pain?"

With a hiccup of terror, she grabbed the cursed object and threw it away as far as her weak little arms could afford, banishing it to one of the furthest locations of her room.

"What do you want, you crazy triangular cyclops?!" She reacted, talking in the direction of the catapulted headrest she couldn't even see any more in the night's darkness. "Get out of my house!

\- Sheesh! Relax, kid!" Responded the maleficent triangle from behind her with a oh-so-happy chuckle. "I was just messin' with you! Ya need to raddle your neuronal synapses every now in then! All I want is to help you with your desperate love situation!"

"My… ?!" She froze, horribly embarrassed, before awkwardly grabbing her arm as she was looking away, forgetting all about how he just had scared her for life with this nightmarish vision. "Is… Is it really that desperate… ?

\- Well, I mean I'm no expert," he wisely admitted on a matter-of-fact tone with an invisible smirk, distractedly playing with a pair of diamond earrings she's let lying around, "but you most certainly grossed him out with that out-in-plain-daylight bullying. Did you seriously think he'd give up on that behavior you had earlier today? That's everything he hates! He probably never wants to see, hear or speak to you ever again!

\- What? Really…?" She stammered, now concerned about how serious her situation with the boy was, "How… How do you know this stuff?

\- You people really have a thing about asking me how I know things! Don't you get it yet? I keep an eye out!" He mimicked by framing his eye inside a triangle, "That's all!

\- Look…! I don't know what you want, but I must ask you to leave this residence immediately!" She commanded with shaky, unconvincing voice, "or I'm calling night-time pest control security!

\- You have a night-time pest control security …?

\- OUT!" she shrieked. But the floating thing annoyingly crossed his hands behind what she supposed was his head, outwardly exposing his non-intention to go anywhere.

"Well, diamond, although I would love to see what happened if you tried, I still have to inform you that you may not want to kick me out so soon." He reasoned, looking down on his imaginary nails. "See kid, I can help you. I am a professional match maker with two non-consecutive degrees in this particular field, believe it or not! And I could make that Pines kid go crazy for you, fall in love, forgetting all about what you've done to him in the past! No expectations, no judgement, no criticizing! Just crazy to boots! And you won't even have to do any efforts, or even pretend like you like him! He'll do all the work!

\- S… Seriously? You can really do that…?" She pondered after a moment of hesitation, embarrassingly interested.

\- Of course. And, to be honest, you could use my help right now." He wickedly reminded her as he flashed before her eyes a series of events she'd done in the past to disappoint the boy she had a crush on. "Once he's gone at the end of the summer, who knows when you'll get to see him again? And I mean, you did make fun of his sister often enough. I don't know if he's forgiven you about that quite yet. If you keep doing what you're doing, he'll have absolutely no reason to come back to gravity falls, even less to contact you ever again, and you'll just be left alone with your parents forever with no one supporting you. Better act quickly, kid! And, from what I've seen, you're going nowhere except away from him with this attitude of yours. I can help!

\- Soooooo…" She resumed, trying to sum this particularly strange story up, "You're offering to make him fall in love with me?

\- Yup!

\- And I won't have to do anything?

\- Righty-oh!

\- Wow… Cool!" Pacifica naïvely cheered in relief, "That's much better than what I first thought! I always had this weird misconception that you couldn't force someone to fall in love with you, and that all you could do if they didn't was to become someone respectable as a person in order to be worthy of there attention! Man, it's good to get all these pre-conceived ideas out of the way! Magic is great!

\- Isn't it?" Bill approved, snapping his fingers to metaphorically represent how easy it was. "And, lucky for you, I only deal with rich people. The most important, influential and refined people of this world, and that's how you caught my eye!

\- Well…" She embarrassingly giggled, flattered, "I guess that DOES make sense… And you're obviously not lying – my father's silverware would never try to trick me.

\- … I'm not your father's silverware.

\- … But we'll have to keep quiet about this." she continued, ignoring him, by reaching to one of her buried bills she hid everywhere in the mansion in order to always have cash within her reach. This one she kept hidden in a miniature replica of an Italian handbag held by her silk teddy bear. "So how much do you charge for your services?

\- Actually, this is your lucky day!" Bill announced, suddenly sounding much more implicated in there conversation, "You don't even need to pay me anything!

Now, even on her level, she thought that sounded kind of suspicious. "Really…?

\- Of course! All I need is, well… A little favor. No biggie, I'm just asking 'cause it's so small you won't even have to lift one of your polished little meat sticks you call fingers. We'll work out the details later. So waddaya say? Deal?"

He held a professional hand out as an invitation, but she could feel the hunger and impatience in his voice. Somehow, he was trying to rush her into exchanging a probably harmless shake, yet it felt like all his entire relentless demonstration had all summed up to this very moment, but she couldn't put her finger on why that was.

But the fact remained: she was horribly tempted. He was right, she was terrible at getting along with anyone who wasn't extraordinary rich, renowned or talented, especially when it didn't seem to be something that occupied most of their thoughts. Which was already strange enough to start with. Ironically, for anyone else who'd never met either of them, they would immediately conclude that she was technically out of the boy's league. Which she was, of course, and that's why she would actually go that far just to have a chance with him, since her status forbidden her from making any actual effort herself.

"Come on, kid!" The triangle exclaimed, as if trying to convince her by sharing a private joke with himself, "What's the worse than can happen?"

"You know what?" She suddenly said with a burning resolution, "Yea! Let's do this!"

She grabbed the cute, tiny open hand and shook it while being cautious not to pull the thin arm off as she did so. But then, when she thought the scene couldn't get any stranger, a blue ceremonial flame emanated from the handshake. Paradoxically, the room's temperature suddenly dropped as she could see through the burning flames the creature stare at her with indescribable satisfaction.

"You've got yourself a deal, kid!"

*8*


	5. Chapter 5

I am sorry to share with you folks the grief of such a sad news: Gravity Falls is almost over. Now I shared with empathy the same pain as the rest of the internet at the tragic announcement, going through all five stages of grief in a very short amount of time.

No, it was a joke. Alex was just pulling another one of his famous pranks, right…?

How dare he! I love this show! I need a name so I can be mad at SOMEONE!... What, the goat? Okay, fine. The goat will do. Curse that goat! Cancelling my favorite show!

… Ok, so the show is going to end soon. Fine, I guess I'll survive. But couldn't we, I don't know… Think of a sequel or a prequel or something…? No…? Dammit, I REALLY hate that goat.

Life is meaningless. Cartoons are meaningless. Everything is meaningless without Gravity falls in it.

Oh well, it happens. The show is soon to be over, but it was great while it lasted. I sure hope other cartoons will be good enough to perpetuate its legacy.

But all this grieving got me thinking: what about my fanfic? I mean, it would kind of be weird to continue obsessing over this show if it's over, right…? I don't know, I'd like to finish writing it before the end of the series, but I have to work FAST, PEOPLE! But then, I learned there's going to be a hiatus.

Again.

Before the final.

6 months, or so.

…

…

Welp, that leaves me time.

 **Oh yea, here's chapter 5, by the way.**

Dipper was a weird little boy for many reasons, one of them being he had always had the strangest habit of always letting people know he was extremely happy or overly excited by making some sort of impatient, eager little muffling, which was selected from a colorful palette he had grown up to diversify. Now, to his credit, he had been working very hard – especially lately, to contain this little sound to a bare minimum, or at least on arrange the tune in such a way that it would go on undetected. You see, it could cause harm in pranking situations because the victim would be warned by his eerie laugh and be able not only to avoid said prank, but also to identify who was behind it. As for an example, the repulsive old man who had just fallen asleep in front of a repeat broadcast of the first season of Duck-tective could have awakened, like it had already happened in the past, because of the young boy's anticipational mumbling. But this time around, thank goodness, Dipper seemed to do it right for Mabel hadn't even noticed it while she was napping the entire palm of their sleeping great-uncle with a creative mix involving half a bag of glitter and a brand new type of glue, fresh of the supermarket. It proclaimed on the box that the innovative mixture was so strong that if you didn't rinse your hands properly, your fingers might get stuck together for an indefinite period of time, which was precisely why Dipper and Mabel were testing out the packaging's promises on poor, unsuspecting Grunkle Stan.

Giving her brother the signal in the form of a thumbs up, Mabel communicated the finalization of the first step of their prank. Dipper evilly nodded back, engaging the second segment of their plan, which this time required both of their synchronized participation. As Dipper slowly reached to his Grunkle's filthy ear, Mable delicately pulled out a long, rainbow-colored fake feather which's tip she gently placed on the unsmooth surface of the man's cheek.

"Oh Grunkle Staaaaaaan…" The male twin softly mused in such a low voice it was barely a whisper, while Mable mimicked an annoyingly high-pitched buzz. "Be careful, oh dearest Grunkle Stan! There's a mosquito flying around, and I think it wants a taste of your royal bloodline…"

Recognizing her cue, the young girl started caressing the feather against the target's nose, making slightly more noise as she imitated the insect. They could witness their plan taking effect with the annoyed grunt of the old man. No… Not mosquitoes… Yet, his eyes hadn't opened, which was absolutely perfect for what was to come.

"Grunkle Stan," Dipper continued, fighting back a powerful chuckle, "you might want to know it just landed on your left cheek… Look! There it is…" Mable was valiantly denying her urge to laugh when the man sluggishly lifted his sticky fingers into the air. "It's about to bite you, grunkle Stan…! But it's busy… You can easily squash the hideous monster! Now easy, easyyyyyyy…!"

With the most satisfying of splatters, Stanford's gluey hand landed with impeccable precision on his face's wrinkly skin.

… It was too much. The devilish twins fell back in laughter, almost choking themselves, tears, hiccups and all, as the glue immediately solidified, forever sealing the beautiful glitter on Stan's skin while the uncovered side of his mouth started to moan in pain, slowly noticing how his hand refused to retrieve to its previous location.

"What the…?" The elderly groaned, now realizing along with how amused the children seemed to be what had just happened to him. "KIDS!"

That was their cue. Scattering giggling screams along the way, Dipper and Mabel promptly escaped from the living room and ran for the stairs, reaching within a minute their safely located attic. They had practiced long and hard to achieve such a world-record performance, and as soon as both of them were out of the raging man's reach, the valuable key they used to seal the door was now inside its matching lock, assuring their security from the Grunkle's grasp.

"DIPPER! MABLE! COME BACK HERE YOU CURRUPTED YOUTH!" Roared a wild and unchained Stanford, when suddenly it appeared something else had captured his attention. Wait… No, Waddles! I'm busy right now! Waddles! Hey! Woah! WOAH!"

With another scream of laughter, the siblings both rolled down on the floor in tears, holding their tortured stomach while hearing their relative fighting back with the one hand he had left a joyous pig that had visibly associated the glitter mixed in with the glue with the notion of food.

"DAMMIT WADDLES, YOU CURSED PIECE OF BACON! I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS, KIDS! FEAR MY WRATH! WAIT 'TILL I COME BACK, I **WILL** GET MY REVENGE!"

And, with an indescribable satisfaction, they witnessed their assailant retrieving by the weakening of his voice in the distance. They still needed a moment to get passed their lasting hilarity, though, but at last they had won. They had pranked the old man, AND got away with it! Since the glorious act had finally ended, Dipper gathered himself together, taking a victorious pose, proudly announcing to the world:

"And with that, ladies and gentlemen, yet another win for the Mystery Twins!"

After sending such an important message, the overjoyed boy turned expectantly to his sister, unable to restrain his typical mumble of happiness. Yes, she knew far too well what this heroic situation called for. The boy lifted his hand into the air and, brilliantly reaching up to his hopes, the cheery girl slapped it perfectly with all her might before intoning with a glittering laugh their favorite ancestral chant of victory.

Bippety boop – TWINS!

Ah, yes! This **was** the perfect summer evening they had been promised by their parents when they had tyrannically obligated these poor children to suffer two whole month in the depths of Oregon. It was imaginable they didn't have in mind gluing their great-uncle's face to his hand with TV advertised high-quality glue and glitter back at the time, but they sure couldn't argue with the results: it **was** fun, and the twins **were** having the time of their life persecuting the grumpy old man.

Not to mention of course the week-long worth of supplies in candy, chips, soda and other unhealthy junk food they had gathered and stacked like busy, wicked squirrels before winter in the corners of their room in preparation for this magnificent occasion. They had prepared surviving 7 full days cooped up in the attic. They would probably consequently shorten their lifespan of a decade or two, but man was it worth it.

Actually, they were just about to dig in their provisions when Mable's flashy smile turned into a frown of horror as if she had just noticed a tear in the fabric of existence itself.

"DIPPER! DIPPER OH MY GOD WE FORGOT THE POPCORN!"

Dipper turned to eye his sister with concern before noting himself that indeed the popcorn was absence from their gorgeous stack of eatable chemistry.

"Oh, yea…" He stated lightly, trying to rationalize, "Oh well. That's ok, I guess we'll just have to do with something el…

\- I WILL FREE YOU FROM YOUR CUBOARD EMPRISONNEMENT, YOU VALUABLE SNACK!" She screamed as she threw a rock tangled in laced sheets through the only window in the room, shattering its glass one more. In the short time he had left to try preventing her action, Dipper was torn between asking her where that rock came from and attempting to quickly explain to her the reasons why so much destruction was unnecessary, but she had already fled towards her next improbable adventure. Left mid-sentence, Dipper couldn't help wondering how many phrases he hadn't been able to tell her up to this day because she had run away before he could do as much as pronounce the first syllable.

\- … Well," he concluded with a nonchalant shoulder shrug, accepting his fate, "I guess popcorn **is** essential to our survival, and somehow healthier than everything else we've got. I'm curious, though… How many times have we broke that window by now…?"

His question suspended in the air for another minute before a strange feeling started filling his conscious, like something was off, like there was some sort of heaviness in the room. He asked himself for the first time since they had started stocking up in provisions of any of them had exceeded consumption date when the strangest thing started to form in front of his bewildered eyes. The pieces of glass of what once used to be a window flew back off the floor to form the triangular surface again, as if a time-rewinding recording was playing the sequence backwards in front of him. A squeak of terror escaped his mouth when the whole scenery in which he found himself turned to shades of grey like the colors had been painted off of them. Even to him, this was strange. And he'd seen strange. He was extremely reluctant to even bare the very idea, but there was only one thing he knew was capable of deforming reality as if it were dream material. And he knew, even before it happened, what to fear and to expect next.

"Hey kid!" resonated with anticipation a recognizable, unsettling, eager voice. "Long time no see!"


	6. Chapter 6

I'm usually not a fan of drama (since good endings have the wonderful potential of making me happy for a short time), but finishing the second season of the Walking Dead - the game - has convinced me the genre does have some positive arguments in it's favor. I'm not going to lie, my crying counter has hit a record of 8 times. It was tough. I had to pause the game to get tissues.

But it was dark, and cruel, and the worst was that it felt so real... The guy who did this MUST have majored in psychology at some point in his brilliant career. I made my brother confused by repeating "Man, this game's plot is so amazing..." through my tears.

Thank goodness for steam and black Friday.

As usual, don't forget to follow and review! I like reviews. I feel cool when I get reviews. Please review.

*8*

 **Hey dude, would you like a chapter 6? I heard there's burritos in this one.**

"Hello, short stack!" the triangular demon announced as if he was introducing himself for the first time, "I bet you were dying to see my unnatural face again!"

Yet for the second time in the same, short, evening, Bill was expecting a selected number of reactions from the 12 years old human boy from which, according of course to the rules of irony, the little man did not quite meet up with. Bill was thinking anger. Bill was thinking fear. Suspicion, why not. On the other hand, Bill was also thinking the kid wouldn't have the lack of decency to be savagely destroying his eardrums like he was currently in the process of doing with the most high-pitched female-like scream he's rarely had the chance to come across in his forever lasting demon life. It was tough on poor, tired Bill. He'd had a long night, and uncomprehensive children were devilishly hard to deal with.

Literally.

And for his benefit, he did try to engage a communicational interaction with the boy. But speaking was difficult when you found yourself being the target of every single object of the room small enough a little boy could grab it in his tiny palm in the short amount of time it took to pronounce any type of word. It disturbed whatever mechanism the demon used to speak, somehow, which turned out to be pretty annoying on the long run. The young Pine Tree eventually tried throwing him the room's doorknob after finding himself in lack of ammo – either that or he was actually trying to get out. Bill wasn't sure quite yet about that last subject, even if it could have opened up on a pretty interesting debate. But it was worth mentioning that whatever the boy's intentions were, it didn't work. The firmly screwed device had already been previously locked, which rendered entertainingly futile every attempt. It had at least the minimal advantage of being funny.

"Man, I missed you!" Bill laughed out loud, openly mocking the small child. This was one of the many reasons why he enjoyed watching young Pine Tree so much: everything he tried to accomplish was adorably vain.

But Dipper didn't find it funny. As a matter of fact, he took very seriously the sudden appearance of Bill as a predicting sign of an approaching catastrophe. It was too late to look for a way out, and he knew the only thing he could hope to achieve at this point was to make the eerie geometrical form leave by confronting him. Dipper breathed in a good chunk of oxygen in order to keep his brain functional before engaging an exchange he knew deep down in his bones would turn out to be awkward.

"What do you want this time?" He bravely stated, locking into position.

"Well," Bill answered with the grateful behavior of someone who had been eagerly waiting for the question to be asked, "to tell you the truth, I am proud to announce that soon your world is going to fall into a chaos under my utter and total control! How great is THAT!"

As his sentence ended, a thousand Bill-like thin and black arms came sprouting out of every surface in the room like daisies in spring to congratulate him with enthusiastic clapping. Bill modestly gestured being embarrassed in front of such passionate devotion.

"Thank you, thank you. But that's not all!" He added while deploying a mile long list that came rolling down until it reached the boy's toes. A long feather dipped in a little bottle of ink appeared close to his fingers as he started writing on a paper impressive enough ii painfully reminded Dipper of his own all-possible-scenarios. "I've even been making plans for the big day, and I've prepared quite the list of pranks to pull on my future skin-puppet servants! What do you think about the concept of shuffling all orifice's functions of people's face?"

He looked up seeking for answers, but suddenly started laughed at his own question as if there were some sort of joke hidden behind it.

"Nah, you know what? I'll just go ahead and do it!

\- Are you kidding me?" Suddenly reacted Dipper at the horror of the concept. "That's sick, man! You'll never take control of our world, do you hear me? Not if I can help it! Mabel and I have stopped you twice by now! So, statistically, you have no chance of winning as long as we're in the game!

\- With your little human arms? Oh, I would love to see you try! But actually, you're right. Now that you mention it, you HAVE been causing quite the ruckus ever since you got here, and even though you haven't been able to alter my plans in any way, even I can see you might cause trouble with these delicate last-minute details I'm working on right now. Heh, I don't know if it's some sort of dumb miracle luck, but history has shown you can prove to be quite the thorn in my side. That's why I need to make sure you'll stay out of my way!

\- Oh yea?" Responded the young boy with a hint of bravery in his cute cracking voice. "Well sorry to break it to you, but I'll keep fighting you until your sick humor and ethically questionable methods can't be a threat to anyone ever again if it's the last thing I do!

\- Man, what a speech!" Congratulated his speaker, laughing with a round of applause. "But let me let YOU in on a little secret of mine! As a matter of fact kid, whether you like it or not, you've been a great help to me! Now thanks to you, I was able to strike quite the handsome deal while making sure you stayed busy!"

Now that took our protagonist off guard. If he'd ever been given the chance, being a pain to Bill was top one on his priority list along with proving Wendy Dipper and her were soulmates. He hadn't recently noticed doing anything in favor of the nightmarish demon, but then again, he did often play with the dark arcane and demonic forces starter guide he'd found in his journal just so he would have a refill of fresh orange juice. But he couldn't quite figure out the relation that would have with convincing someone to make a deal with such a frightening looking stranger, especially if that person was mentally sain.

"What? With who?

\- Well," Bill teased, "if you really want to know, let it be known that this little champion right here managed to score with a real-life female that's his own age, for once!

-What? What the heck are you talking about?" The poor pre-teenager panicked like he usually did when the ancient subject of that odd species commonly called "girls" ever came up. The best way to deal with these situations was to call up on his old friend. "Are you trying to mess with me?

Ah, yes. Good old denial.

"I know, right?" Bill wisely empathized towards the young man's distress. "Who would have though an obsessed short, sweaty, voice cracking pre-adolescent having issues with his puberty could appear attractive to anyone? And she was desperate enough to ask for my help, on top of that! The sensors in your brains that make you so desperate for the attention of the opposite sex will forever stay a mystery for me! But hey, you won't see me complaining for keeping you out of my way! Besides, I love messin' with my favorite crybaby!"

Dipper took that personally.

" I'm…! I'm not a crybaby!

\- Gets me every time!" Bill added while going ahead with another chilling laugh, "Your egos are so fun to diminish, especially pre-adolescent males! I love the way people awkwardly try to revolt when I do it! In any case, it's too late, kid. I might not be able to debate you into letting me savage your mind once more like you so kindly let me last time we met, but deals have this convenient property of not having to ask for anyone else's permission.

-W… Wait!" Dipper stuttered worryingly as the last hint of bravery withered away from his tone, "What are you saying?

\- Well kid," Bill professionally answered with that same cold, hungry look that sent shivers quivering down the child's spine, that same look he had the day he tricked him into using his body as his own personal puppet, "It looks like you've just embarked on another heck of a ride, Pine Tree!"

Dipper knew what that meant. In a last hope to escape from Bill's madness, he tried calling out for help even though his throat was dry as ice; for Mabel, Stan, Soos, anyone.

But no one could hear him.

*8*

Mabel was proud of herself. That's why she was throwing handfuls of popcorn around her like the bowl she had be sent to retrieve was filled with confetti. She couldn't wait to share the news with her beloved brother as she went, with all the impunity in the world, dancing up the staircase: Stan had left. Cursed with his glittery wound, the old man had retreated to another location, AKA Soos's house. Turned out Grunkle Stan trusted the shack's handyman better than he trusted the development of medicine over the past 20 years. Actually, it might be more accurate towards the ancestor's character to say the hospital had forbidden him to even as much as set a foot on their parking lot ever again, but Mabel would rather believe in the handy-trust theory. It involved more cuddles and friendship, with a possibility of rainbows, according to her own imagination.

Unlocking their fortress with the key she'd kept for her excursion, she sent flying immediately after arrival the plastic bowl of popcorn so that any remains of what she'd spread on the way to the attic was now flying like eatable snow around the twin's room.

"AND SO LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, NOW THAT THE STAR HAS ARRIVED, LET'S HEAR IT! MABEL PIIIIIIIINES!"

And so, without waiting for any sign of consent from her brother – which she wasn't even a hundred percent sure was still in this room, she started singing a princess song about dreamy guys on white horses, replacing certain lyrics with "sparkles" and "unicorns" as she sprung around the room.

Dipper knew this song, and that's why she expected him to either contribute or disapprove her ballet all together. But she found strange how no reaction seemed to emanate from around her, and, curious as to see if she'd been wrong all along thinking he was in the room, she gradually ended her song on a fondue, discreetly peeking towards the center of their space.

But her twin was indeed present, even if his lack of a response did somehow seem unusual. She tried calling out for him once or twice, but the boy didn't give up on starring into space with blurry eyes and a bit of a drool on the corner of his mouth like he'd kept that same position his whole life long. And Mabel didn't appreciate being ignored, especially when she'd fulfilled such a noble task of fetching yet another bowl of survival food, even considering not much was actually left in said bowl.

With a sharp and cruel kick to the knee, Dipper's face went spreading flat out on the floor, which had for consequence to make the poor boy groan as the pain brought him back to life.

"OW! What the heck?" What had he done this time, he thought. He wasn't even picking on her! That action was just plain cruel and uncalled for. She wouldn't stand a ghost of a chance in court if he turned out to have proof.

"You were spacing out like a dork again!" She said with blame in her voice, not even having the courtesy to apologize. Apparently she did hold it against him for not paying attention to her soothing melody she threw to celebrate her entrance. But Dipper did seem to recognize, after going through all the hardship of standing back up again, worry in his sister's fake mocking behavior. "You didn't even hear me when I told you Stan is gone! We have the shack to ourselves! At least gratuitously hitting your head always seems to bring you back to your senses!"

Now putting aside the fact he wasn't sure "gratuitously" found it's place in the English dictionary regardless of how pretty it sounded, the male twin considered arguing on that last subject; even if in the past some of her present assumptions did happen to find some reliable evidence of some kind, purposely making someone fall face down on the floor to get them to snap out of a daydream was wrong on many levels, starting with the basic and simple one that it was obviously painful.

"Actuallyyyy…" She continued without even giving him the chance to express his constructed point of view, "We could say, it KNOKS some sense into you! BWAP BWAP BWAP!"

Forgetting what he once wished to point out to her attention, Dipper now blankly stared at her as if explicitly showing his thoughts about how her lack of a subtle humor sense was one of many proofs humanity had yet to evolve. But he did love his sister, and for that sake he would mercifully accept her despicable imperfection, for this time, at least.

What had just happened…? He wondered as he rubbed his eyes, coming back to his senses, like waking up from a bad dream. There was like a blur in his mind, and every event that hypothetically happened between his sister heroically leaving and appearing again behind him had been visibly blacked out. What on earth had just happened…?

But those dark thoughts were soon obliterated by the fact that he was now standing on a crushed piece of popped corn, reminding him of the quantity of food they had stacked up. It was sad, knowing their hard, backbreaking labor of stealing food from the kitchen and past Grunkle Stan's supervising would, in the end, not benefit a survival necessity but serve more as an enhancing of a typical snackless night at the shack. He eventually came to the wise conclusion that, in order to maximize the worth of the stolen food, they would have to come up at some point with yet another plan that would make Stan mad enough they needed to survive a few days separated from the shack's tiny society.

*8*


	7. Chapter 7

… I'm not happy.

Want me to tell you why? 'Cause I'm going to. Right now. READY FOR IT? My chapters are taking longer and longer to come out. This isn't good. I'm becoming one of those writers that take years before updating.

… Sure, it's only been a week.

FOR NOW.

*8*

 **Hahaha! Sorry dude, my bad! Turned out the burrito thing was in chapter 7! Haha!**

"Wow wow wow…" Mabel shook her head as if it could help whatever mechanism her head used to translate sound signals into words to understand Dipper's early-morning's rambling. But it didn't help for the end result was only the one you might expect from such an action: getting dizzy – not that she didn't enjoy it, of course. After all, that was one of the many enjoyable side-effects she looked forward to when consuming an overdose of Smile Dip. It's just that she was working on quite the important task right now of figuring out how to make her Mabel Juice even more unique than the sparkly confetti she had just previously mixed in were already making it and her brother's nonsense was distracting her from progressing towards such greatness. Stan, on the other hand, seemed much more comprehensive. You would have thought the fearful old man would have seek revenge after such a humiliating evening considering, after all, the hospital did have to eventually give up and administer him treatment after acknowledging the fact he still was, after all, a human being (despite all the evidence against this theory). But he surprisingly didn't seem to hold any sort of grudge against his great-niece and great-nephew for the wounded old man, who was now bearing a painful-looking and somewhat glittery war scar on his left cheek, was suspiciously non-destructive and somewhat respectfully quiet as breakfast was served to him. He was now peacefully reading his usual newspaper without a care in the world, not panicking before his great-nephew's behavior for he was probably personally convinced Dipper's rambling was just another one of his many morning rituals.

Either that or he genuinely didn't care.

In both case's scenario, the situation remained: Mabel's twin's talk was getting in the way of her erratic and efficient creative imagination which was obviously at work right now. And if he kept distracting her like that, she feared she wouldn't be able to compose the magical juice capable of curing the sick and making rainbows sprout out of people's ears. She eventually came to the sad conclusion that multitasking was not one of her many talents that early in the morning, so, being as mature as a twelve year old could ever be, she patiently paused her important work and turned to her twin in order to listen more carefully. "Okay, wait. Can you start over?"

"Pacifica. I love her. I've got to see her." His eyes were round and unfocused when he flatly spoke. "Now."

"Oh." Mabel declared with satisfaction as her senses notified her that she had understood the sentence, unlike its predecessors. And not only did she interpret the words correctly, they were actually making sense for a change. "Okay, then." She briefly commented, turning back to her creation as she was busy not noticing anything wrong with her brother.

 _But wait_ , warned her brain, _did he just admit having a crush?_ And, as Mabel's smile slowly expanded from grasping the consequent meaning of each following syllable, it soon became clear that Dipper's sentence had eventually penetrated her skull since her eyes expressed happiness that could only be achieved by the sudden sight of dancing gummy-bears.

"OH MY GOD!" A hyper-ventilating pre-teenage girl screamed at a frequency that could have scared bats away, "DIPPER! YOU'RE IN LOVE! IT'S WONDERFUL! I can't believe it I can't believe it I can't believe it OHMYGOD! I KNEW IT! YOU'RE FINALLY GOING TO GET MARRIED! I'M SO PROUD OF YOU!" She jumped up and down so eagerly the stool she had elected to stand on was menacing to collapse from all her excitement. But you had to understand: she couldn't help but imagine all the new possibilities this union could offer on the long term as well as on the short term: babies. Lots and lots of babies. And love. And happiness. And rainbows. And unicorns, to, since fate hadn't disillusioned her about them quite yet. Would it be a boy? Would it be a girl? She sure would have liked it to be a girl. She desperately wanted her new niece to be a girl so she could be her godmother and share bonding over cruelly and unfairly mocking her dear brother. Ah, fun times, fun times. The Pines' family had wonderful perspectives ahead of it indeed.

Yet something did – thank God – eventually seem strange to her about all of this. You see, she vaguely managed to recall her brother telling her the girl he'd just mentioned wasn't one of his favorites, to slightly understate the facts. She thought over for a brief second whether or not it would be sensible to bring up the matter. She really did want that niece.

"But wait… Didn't you, like, hate her or something?" She hesitantly questioned as if the very fact of asking would remind him of the truth of these words and instantly and forever change his mind on the subject, which wasn't precisely what she was shooting for to be quite honest.

"Never. That would be preposterous. " he answered to her relief with the same non-living tone as before. And that was definitive.

"Yeaaaaaa!" She casually shrugged her shoulders, happily and unconditionally having trust in Dipper's obviously undoubtable words, "I might've just made it all up. Well, I do imagine people saying the weirdest things, some times. Like Grunkle Stan!" She pointed out excitingly as if she were proud to announce to the world she possibly had brain damage, "I heard him say once that he'd rolled himself in a whole gallon of salt and pepper to become a human burrito!"

"Nope," the bored old man flatly commented with turning a page of his newspaper being his single reaction. "That really happened."

"Anyway," She continued with her untainted good humor, "You have no idea how happy I am to hear you've finally found a soulmate! All we need now is either to convince her to marry you or to lure her into it. I wonder if she's attracted to shiny objects… If that's the case, Mable Juice might actually do the trick…"

But as Mable sunk deeper among her inner thoughts for more plotting advice, a sudden whack pulled her out of it like a fish caught on a bait. She instinctively pointed her head in direction of what she supposed was the origin of such an unusual sound to discover the man who had perpetrated said act of violence was none other than her beloved great-uncle, holding high up his weapon of crime – AKA a rolled up newspaper – over the small victim's painful head.

"Ow!" Cried in pain the 12 year old boy, reacting to the cruel injustice. "What gives?!"

Stan shook back open his newspaper, retracting any further intervention on the matter. "Thought I saw a fly."

Suddenly, the earlier statement singing praises about Stan's noble forgiveness sounded pretty inaccurate. When you actually thought about it, was it that surprising, Mable considered? Stan was the sort of man to pretend forgetting about traumatizing incidents just to get back at someone's unsuspecting prank. So, okay. Maybe their great-uncle wasn't so strongly merciful after all.

But it seemed the shock had nevertheless a pretty severe consequence on the young man's body since the boy started shaking his head as if suddenly trying to clear his thoughts. "Wait…" He dizzily mumbled, like waking up from a dream. "What… What was I just talking about…?"

Ah, but she DID on the other hand have the answer to THAT question.

"Pacifica," she delightfully chanted, "you just admitted having the worst crush on her!

\- Wait, WHAT? What the heck are you talking about?" He shockingly replied, fully unaware of what she was speaking about before using an angrier tone. "Mabel, I've already told you! Saying your wishes out loud won't make them come true! We've already been over this!

-Oh," she exclaimed with dangerous satisfaction as she pulled out a voice recorder from behind her back, no matter how physically improbable it sounded, "I've heard it, alright…"

She sadistically pressed on the button which happened to be decorated with a little red triangle pointing sideways before Dipper's uneven voice filled the kitchen room with his own condemning words: "Pacifica. I love her. I've got to see her."

Now if Dipper had ever expressed worry and panic, this was the time.

\- How did you…?" The dear boy responded after a few moments of realizing with horror that his cute, adorable sister actually had proof of such a horrifying fact, no matter how impossible it was. AND, she was ready to use it. But the logical conclusion of what she'd just showed him suddenly dawned on him. "Wait… So you had that thing on all along just in case I randomly said something you could use against me?

\- I need inspiration fox my mix-tapes!" She briefly explained as she paused the recording, casually placing it back to whatever dark realm she'd pulled it out of in the first place.

Though it visibly didn't appear to show as being a big deal of any sort to his young sister, Dipper suddenly realized how it surprisingly made perfect sense went you took into consideration the humiliating mix tape she'd already made out of Dipper's pre-adolescent cracking voice.

"But that's so weird…" He continued, revisiting the earlier reasons to his once upon a time worry. "How could I have ever stated such a thing? I don't remember even saying something like that! When did I say it?

\- 289 words ago." She answered with acute precision, leaving him wondering how, when and why she'd found the time to answer that question from such a peculiar angle. Yet Dipper was now worried.

"But… I don't remember any of it! What happened…? And…! And last night something similar happened!" He suddenly realized as the memory hit him right on the back of his head. "I forgot everything that had happened between when you'd left the room and when you'd came back in! Oh no… Mabel, something's happened to me! I never would have said that! Pacifica's the worst – and I'm not just repeating myself to make some sort of comical reference! I really, actually, KNOW she's a bad person! Why would I ever…?

\- Weeeeeeeell," Mabel stated with an obvious wicked plotting behind her exaggerated statement, "I have an ideaaaaaa! Come on! It starts by "being" and finishes with "in love"!

\- Anyway, it's weird!" He drifted, refusing to give in his sister's not-so-subtle suggested turn of phrase, now conscious a dark little box was recording every single one of his words against his will, a dark little device it was indeed for he knew it could and it would eventually penalize him once more in the future. "I don't like this Mabel! I think I'm going crazy! It's like I were under a… A… A SPELL or something! Ugh, man! I thought I'd reached the bottom of embarrassing myself around girls with Wendy, but it's like fate had sent me a shovel so I could keep digging my own grave…! WHY?

\- Hey," empathized Mabel, "don't be so hard on yourself! It's okay! We all have moments in our life that have been conveniently blacked out of our memory! People sometimes call it unconscious denial – it happens all the time! Besides, all things considered, I think you have a better chance this time! Wink! Wink!

\- Mabel, I can see you winking. You don't need to express it out loud.

\- Aw, come on! Pacifica's the best and you know it!" She casually replied as if she'd strangely suffered sudden deafening at his previous statement. "Also, if you want to hear a secret…"

She suddenly grew exaggeratedly closer to him, as if the information would drop such an important bomb scattering the very ground it had to be contained under the exclusive form of an excitedly whispered squeal, "I think she has a thing for you too!

Now Dipper didn't know how to react to such a statement – girls not really being his domain of expertise and all - which was precisely why it had thrown him off guard. "But, what if she doesn't like me back?" He anxiously reacted, sweating and playing with his hands like he always did when worry got the best of him. "She's probably out of my league… I mean she's so nice, and so pretty, and… Wait… No… NO!" The boy suddenly vigorously shook his head with horror at realizing the meaning of his last string of words. "It's doing it again! Mabel! What do I do…? What do I…? MY JOURNAL! That's what I'll do!"

And, without even taking the proper time it deserved to realize it was grammatically wrong to state you were going to DO a journal, not in that context anyway, the young boy dashed off to his room before his thin window of sanity wore off once again.

That very sudden departure had for end result to leave a bamboozled Mable and an uninterested uncle alone again at the kitchen table. Whatever Dipper was on about, Mabel decided, it wasn't anything a good Mabel Juice – which had, satisfyingly, took a suspiciously abnormal texture and color during the long conversation - couldn't cure. Now all she needed was a loving and unsuspicious family member to test it on.

"Oh Grunkle Staaaaaaaaaan!" She chanted as she shook the mixer which contained the glittery poison in front of the old man, having officially found her next victim. "Oh do I have in store what you're looking for!

Now for anyone exterior to this scene, anyone who'd never met the Pine's old family member, they would have just though the obese old man was starring up out of boredom with such an uninterested look that it would clearly translate into "No thanks, sweet pea. Your Grunkle Stan is fine, thank you."

But God were they wrong. You see, if you knew him this much better, you could easily read through the windows that were his eyes straight into his tormented soul and discover how he truly felt about… The MABLE juice. Because for some reason the young girl had yet to explore, her great-uncle seemed to suffer internal screaming as the image of the juice reflected on his cataract-covered retina. It would seem the sight reminded him of some sort of forbidden memory that somehow involved coffee and nightmares. And babies. Somehow.

… So, no, Mabel was guessing with disappointment, it turned out she didn't have in store what he was looking for, and worse, the only other possible candidate to taste her culinary creation had run off to who-knows-where.

In conclusion of the early morning, Dipper had officially gone mad – tape record for proof – and Stan had yet again been grossed out by one of the twin's unnatural abilities.

"Meh," she simply noted. "Typical Tuesday."

*8*


	8. Chapter 8

Mabel liked to think that unless some sort of apocalypse washed humanity off the surface of the earth, she would always faithfully remain her good old cheery self. As a matter of fact, she always assumed that in the same manner as a contagious sickness, she had the natural power to spread out her infinite happiness towards the rest of the universe until everyone had become as undoubtedly happy as her. But she did come across an obstacle to her theory every now and then, and today, that obstacle happened to have a name.

"Dipper…? What are you doing here?"

Let's put things back into context.

So we all remember when Dipper left the room that very morning, right? He was running around, leaving a blind opening for people to suggest he might be worried about his own mental health. But Mabel wasn't worried, though. Heck, no one could ever worry Mabel, creator of the MabelHappyLabel. Yes, it was a thing. She had invented that product. And yes, it was commercialized among a very large crowd and happened to be very successful among stuffed animals. She used that in her match-making promotion campaign, by the way.

But Dipper didn't deserve the MabelHappyLabel quite yet. As she was tumbling along the streets of the city, she happened to recognize his baseball-caped figure sitting on his heels near a tree that oh-so happened to conveniently hide his tiny figure from a very specific girl's eyesight. The boy had obviously been sitting there for quite a while since he was now drawing circles in the dirt out of sheer boredom using the tip of his finger.

So here we are, back into the heat of the action, as Mabel was heading forth with the intention of unraveling the reasons of his presence. "What are you doing here?" She therefore questioned.

The young twin had obviously heard that last sentence but proceeded to exhale a lousy sigh that was frustratingly nowhere close to an actual phrased answer. Fortunately, that heavy sign had the potential to indicate at the very least his current mood, which in its own way still got her closer to what she wanted to know.

So he was feeling beaten. Ok, that… That was good, that was good. So we were moving forward, then. Great. Maybe she could squeeze a little more information from him than that, though.

"What happened to your usual mystery hunting spirit? This is usually the time of day when you put into action those wacky theories you keep me up with at night."

Unfortunately, the second sigh he had was in many ways very similar to the first one with in addition his eyes remaining hidden by his hat, which delayed her actually gaining any knowledge about what was wrong. But thankfully, his exhaling turned out to be the prelude to a real explanation of his situation.

"As I was running upstairs to get my journal" he started, "I didn't realized I wasn't heading towards the room until I was half-way into the forest… It looked like I'd decided without knowing I was actually heading towards that stupid blondie. And now I got here, all I want to do is leave but I can't. I want to, but I just can't. I don't know what to do and this STUPID sickness I have isn't going away."

It was deductible from his tone that he was mad, also by the fact that he had just angrily crossed his arms over his adorable chest and cocked his head into a meaningful sulk.

Now Mabel didn't really know where to go from there. She turned herself in order to confirm that the blondie was indeed in peripheral vision – which turned out to be accurate information, as she was busy kicking an anthill and making fun of its residents lack of noble lineage – then brought back her attention upon her one-millimeter short brother. To her wise advice, the solution to his sadness seamed rather obvious.

"Well," she offered, "why don't you go talk to her?"

Even though she personally found the idea very cute, she realistically expected Dipper to scowl at her, lecturing her about how foolish she was to mix him up with such a hateful being including in the small realm of her imagination. But surprisingly, none of her expectations went forth.

The poor, abandoned little puppy that happened to be her twin looked up at her, and finally, FINALLY, she could tell what was going on for his baseball cap was finally out of the way.

The boy was sad.

And, in goat's name, it was too adorable to describe. He did want to talk to her.

But wait! The situation's cuteness overload wasn't over quite yet. The words his sister had pronounced not only seemed to make actual sense to him, they were slowly starting to take effect in the form of a reaction. Profoundly reflecting on Mabel's suggestion, Dipper slightly rearranged his body in order to take a look over his shoulder at the said blondie. This was too much for his fragile emotions though, and he quickly retrieved to his previous position like his eyes had been staring at the sun for too long. But he hadn't given up, and with a hesitant frown that clearly showed how much he was overthinking the situation, Dipper tried to convince himself it was the right thing to do. Yes, the decision had been made. He would talk to her.

The boy stood up courageously, determination painted all over his face. He then breathed in some manly oxygen (whatever that is) as he bravely readjusted his cap, and took a decisive step away from his hiding spot and towards his greatness. But then again, the reality of the situation dawned back on him. She was a girl. He was a boy. And that never worked out. Not as long as he was part of the equation, anyway.

And it was with disappointment – yet with no surprise – that Mable witnessed her brother cowardly sink back into his hiding gear with a wimpy cry. "I can't do it I CAN'T DO IT!" He hyperventilated as his eyes were watering. Yup, that was her brother all right.

"All I'm going to accomplish is embarrassing myself just like with Wendy!" He furthermore developed. "Oh man… Look at me…! I can't even talk to a GIRL! What's wrong with me?! And why am I so sweaty every single fruit-looping time?!"

Inexplicably, that sentence seemed to trigger something terrible within the depths of his sister's memory. "It's… The pituitary gland…

\- I'm sorry, what…?"

But without giving him the proper answer he deserved, she mysteriously looked up at the sky as if seeking help from above as she whispered "I miss childhood…"

But Dipper didn't think much of it as he simply went back to drawing circles in the dirt, vanquished. After all, even though that was objectively speaking a weird thing to say, the boy still considered his pre-teen problems to have deeper meaning than his sister's occasional mood swings. After all, the girl eventually came back to reality to notice how sad and lonely her twin looked, which in turn started to make her feel sad and lonely as well.

And oh did she not like that.

"Oh, come on, bro-bro…" She said in hopes of cheering up the brother that was starting to look more and more like her stuffed animal Kitty-sad-sad. "Let's go home."

Dipper sighed. Oh, well. So much for his manly pride. But yes, we did want to go back home and forget about this whole humiliation. Therefore, it was with a distracted nod and a few defeated sniffs that the young male got up and dusted off his cloths. His sister's suggestion did leave him wondering how much distance could affect his sudden attraction to the stupid girl. Finally putting his hands back in his pockets where they belonged, he then looked up to Mable in the intention of letting her know that he is now free to leave whenever it would seem fit to her, but was unnervingly met with one of the widest smile, and that's saying something, his sister had ever given him.

It was a trap.

"MABEL!" The boy screamed in disapproval as his sister forcingly pulled him toward his doom, "MABEL, NO! DON'T YOU DARE!"

But those were the few last things he had the luxury to announce before it were too late: he had come within a 3 meters radius of the girl of his nightmares and his words therefore found themselves stuck in his throat.

"You'll thank me later!" She loudly whispered, winking to herself.

"For crying out loud, Mabel, I can see you win..." But his sentence knew no end for her deed was done. It front of him now stood the blondie who was busy having her shoe polished by a servant in result for kicking the ant hill. And she gave them both a surprised and puzzled look.

And, following human social standards, it seemed appropriate for her to expect either twin to say anything, possibly some form of greeting, considering they had purposely walked up to her. But nothing came out of their mouth, except for Mable, who was busy mumbling excitedly so hard it looked like she had recently discovered some new form of drug. And her brother, well… Wasn't much for conversation either. The young male was as stiff as a wood plank, desperately forcing himself to keep his eyes locked on the sky above them and on the birds that oh so interestingly happened to fly by.

Pacifica let a few seconds go by, experimenting how long they had the intention to stay there like a pair of statues before acting human again, but to no avail.

Eventually, she tried to start a conversation.

"Hum-

\- HEY PACIFICA!" Mabel cut her off with every exclamation point being audible, "THIS IS MY BROTHER!"

Putting aside how surprised Pacifica felt about the unnecessary strength of her tone, she wondered why, of all things to start a conversation with, it had to be that specifically. Since she already had been introduced to Dipper in the past, she nevertheless waited for any following information but is only met by the hyper-active smile of her speaker which had mysteriously gone back to silent. Pacifica was still rather baffled about what was going on, also on how to respond. After switching her attention from Mabel to Dipper and from Dipper to Mabel, she still didn't know what all this was about, and therefor tried again, like earlier, to start a proper conversation.

"Hi-"

"OH WOW, WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE TIME!" Mabel yelled like her life depended on it. "MY FAVORITE SHOW IS ON I BETTER GO TO THE BATHROOM DO MY HOMEWORK I FORGOT SOMETHING BACK HOME YOU GO ON WITHOUT ME BYE!"

And left running in the opposite direction, laughing like a true villain, with no other explanation.


	9. Chapter 9

Current mood: Considering laying out an unpopular opinion on the internet just to get some more reviews.

*8*

 **HOLY HAP-SNAGGLES ON A BROOMSTICK! A NINTH CHAPTER !**

Hello! Have you miss us? Well do not fret, for your favorite show starring the stereotypical blond rich girl and the lovably awkward nerd is back on track!

Remember last episode? Yes, the one where Dipper hated his sister. Well, she had now disappeared to Gods knows where, leaving poor sweaty little Dipper to his fate. And in a surprising plot twist, he now wished for his sister to know the meaning of true pain. The way he would figure out how to inflict such punishment upon her wasn't quite clear as of yet, but he nevertheless enjoyed the idea as he wished for this mental sentence filled with complicated words that was unfolding in his mind and that was uncomfortably long to never end so he would never have to ever come back to the awkward, frightening reality.

Pacifica took a curious look at the perfect impression of a wood plank that stood in front of him, debating over whether she should congratulate him for said impression or consider calling an ambulance. In a final vote in favor of social interactions, she concluded asking him what was wrong might actually help solving the mystery of what the frog was going on. But in all fairness towards logic, she first needed to know what sort of mental illness Dipper's sister suffered and if it was appropriate for her or not to make fun of it.

"Like, what was that?" She therefor asked in all sympathy, pointing towards the direction the missing girl had just disappeared.

Unfortunately, Dipper wasn't quite ready to act human yet. And, let's be honest, those birds flying up in the sky, way, **way** above her were really damn interesting to look at. He absentmindedly wondered though if the sister he hated so much at this very moment hadn't made a point saying he'd feel better talking to the girl that was, erm, probably in front of him. I mean, was she? He… Couldn't really tell… I mean those birds really were interesting. Just look at them! Wings and all. So majestic…

But Dipper couldn't help feeling ashamed. Running away from a girl. And avoiding her for that matter, hah! No, he was a man. He had chest hair, remember? No, the fact that his devilish sister had stripped him from the single hair that happened to be on his chest wasn't relevant. It was too late, he was a man. He would not only _talk_ to her, he would _succeed_! Forming a sentence. How hard can it be? He was probably stranded from all this overthinking. Talking. He knew how to talk. He would never say something stupid and uncomfortably honest out of nowhere. Alright. Ready? Let's do it. Let's be human.

"Hum, are you alr-"

"I'M NOT SWEATY."

God dammit.

Well, on the bright side, he was surprisingly spot on about that "saying something stupid and uncomfortably honest out of nowhere" business. But that sort of unwanted intervention wasn't really what he'd been going for, truthfully. He tried to apologize hastily, but then again, he'd forgotten how to speak. And the fact that people seemed so keen on cutting her off – and ignoring her, for that matter - with unnecessarily loud responses was slowly starting to piss the rich little replica of Barbie off.

"So what, do you need to go to the bathroom or something?" She mocked.

No but seriously, she then started to rationalized, he'd better not be sick. Money was the single acceptable source of germs in her family and if her father got any idea she'd got any sickness from anywhere else, she'd be in trouble.

Receiving no further answer, she deduced trying to act human herself was a waste of time if she wouldn't ever get a response. Having no more reason to convince her otherwise, she slowly started walking away, wondering if it were possible for her to do so without him even noticing. After all, he did seem to find those birds especially interesting at the moment.

"No! Wait!" Caught up with her the voice she'd been waiting to hear as soon as she'd turned around. Huh. Guess those birds must have been a disappointment after all. "I'm sorry…" He sheepishly apologized, rubbing an awkward hand behind his neck, "I… I'm not really feeling like myself lately…

\- What, you mean you're not always acting like a dork?" She teased.

"Shut up!" He giggled by harmlessly pushing her.

And with that simple gesture, he realized what he'd been so treacherously looking for was within him all along; his inner power to act like a normal human being. He smiled at his sudden epiphany, finding hope again in the possibility to not sound like a complete idiot in front of someone who – he assumed, was another human being that just happened to be from the opposite sex. Experimenting, he asked if she had any other activities she wished to attend that very afternoon. And, surprisingly, she assured the contrary as they took a friendly walk in company of each other. Ladies and gentlemen, this was a day to be proud for this young child found himself, well… Talking to her like a normal person!

… But in the darkest, darkest shadows of those bushes he were innocently distancing, an evil sister lurked and rejoiced as she witnessed the events unraveling according to her plan. Perfect. Peeerfect, she thought as she rubbed her hands with satisfaction.

*8*

"Hehe," Pacifica laughed honestly for once at one of Dipper's remarks. She was actually enjoying herself. "Man, you really are a dork! I can't believe I spent a whole afternoon with the same person without doing anything that involved a cash card. I guess you could say you're the person I least hate to forbiddingly hang out with.

\- Errrr… Thanks…?

\- Yes, yes. That was fun. Okay, well, I'll be taking my leave. I better get going before my father starts suspecting I have any social life.

\- Already…?" After having the chance to feel normal while talking to a girl he was attracted to, Dipper couldn't help feeling a little disappointed at the idea of ending it right there. "Because, I was kind of thinking…

\- Yes?"

Dammit. Why on earth did he think it were a good idea to start that sentence? He had to finish it, now! And what on earth was he going to finish it with? All his hard work, all his sounding human, he was about to throw everything he'd worked for out the window! Don't do it, Dipper, please!

\- Well, I mean, er…" He continued as a disastrous panic took over his mind, making him twist his fingers and look in all sorts of random directions, blushing. "I dunnow… I was, you know, thinking that, er… Maybe you'd like to hang out – I mean, if you're not busy or anything! - like, tomorrow, or something…?"

His voice ended the thought with a high pitch as the sweating boy realized how lucky he was that it turned out to be a question. Otherwise, he had no idea what it would have sounded like and if it would actually be grammatically correct. Thankfully, he wasn't the only one to feel embarrassed. Princess blondy could feel her cheeks heating up again as she stuttered, unsure how to respond to such an appealing invitation.

"Wow… It… It worked! That creepy guy's shenanigans worked! Who would've thought black magic was actually a thing…

\- I'm sorry, wha-

\- YES." She quickly corrected, "That was a yes.

\- Oh, okay, then!" He said, convinced it was yet but another fragment of his imagination. He'd been getting a lot of those, lately. He wondered if something had gone wrong somewhere around the mechanics of his mind. He'd need to check on that later. But for instance, he needed to bid his friend farewell. "See you tomorrow, then!"

"Yea, sure! See you tomorrow!"

And with that, he sighed happily as he watched her bring out her phone to call one of her limousines in order to pick her up. Man, you know, she wasn't that bad after all. She really was kinda cool… In a way. He waved at her when she left, feeling like at last, nothing could possibly go wrong. Finally. Dipper Pines, ladies and gentlemen! He'd managed to talk to a girl, **and** arrange to see her again the next day! No, no, please. Refrain all your enthusiasm, it is only natural for the great Dipper to be such a winner with ladies.

"Dipper Pines," he congratulated himself with a snap of his fingers, "You did well. Who's manly Mannington now, huh?"

And you know what such a victory calls for…? Yup, you guessed it! Going home. So, naturally, he turned around to face his family with pride, but whammed into some sort of unmovable object that stood so close behind him he was surprised he hadn't noticed it earlier. Looking up, he came to understand that unmovable object was in fact a frighteningly happy sister.

"Hoooow long have you been standing there exactly…?"

Instead of responding to that, her eyes excitingly locked with his, her smile growing wider and wider until it was practically the size of her entire face.

"oh my goat" she whispered, "that was amamazing you have no idea how hard I ship it".

Dipper gave the grinning stone a puzzled expression. "Hum, amamazing…? What does that even-

\- HOLY HAPSNAKLE! MY BROTHER HAS A DATE!"

Forgetting all about his twin's scary apparition, the boy couldn't help sharing the excitement.

"I know, right? Did you see that! I actually TALKED to her! Like a normal person! And, she talked back…? And, it was fun… ? And I'm like, seeing her tomorrow… ? And…! And..! Wait a minute…" Dipper suddenly realized he distinctly recalled not liking the same girl he was speaking of with such joy.

"Wait, Mabel. Something's not right… I'm not supposed to like her. Why am I so excited about this…? What's wrong with me…? Why does this keep happening…?"

Mabel stuck out her tongue out and waved the matter away before she realized how much fun sticking her tongue out actually was. She curiously played with her new found ability until, looking up again, she were met with a judgmental sibling who was wondering how much money he could make, and if it were morally correct to do so – in that order, selling the creature he had in front of him at a petting zoo.

"I don't know why I keep telling you things.

\- Oh, come on, Dipperew! Don't be silly! Of course there's something wrong with you, and you know it inside your tiny-winy nerdy little heart! You are…? What you could say…? … Come on, it starts with an "in"…?

\- Mabel, I'm not joining in on this." He responded with bad humor, crossing his arms.

"Then there's a second word…?

\- I said no.

\- A four letter words…?

\- Mabel, don't you dare.

\- In a famous song written in 1967 by the Beatles's John Lennon which states that it's "all you need"…?

\- Mabel, I swear I'll kill you."

She stared at him expectantly with the happiest of looks painted all over her face with such a layer it was almost dripping. But meeting no reaction from her dear brother, she let out the saddest of sighs and gave up on him ever participating to her joyous rampage.

"Thank God…

\- HEY EVERYBODY!" The girl suddenly shouted at a volume designed to make you deaf in an instant, "MY BROTHER IS IN LOVE! HE'S GOT THE WORST CRUSH EV-"

Keeping his oath, Dipper insisted on making her silent forever by tackling the giggling monster to the ground.


	10. Chapter 10

Imagine the author doing a little tap-dance.

 _Tappity-tap-tap._

Yup. Just for your entertainment, sugar-pies.

... What, are you not entertained...?

 **Ladies and gents, a 10th chapter is coming your way.**

Keeping his oath, Dipper insisted on making her silent forever by tackling the giggling monster to the ground. Tickles and happiness overflowed, making the scene reach a whole new level of adorableness if it weren't for a floating triangle watching them as they did so. You'd be surprised to notice though that, even though he was visibly and physically floating inches away from them, they seemed completely oblivious to their uninvited audience.

"Well," commented Bill Cipher as he closed that specific mental door from within the boy's mind, "I guess that'll be enough privacy invading for tonight- JUST KIDDING, I LOVE THIS!"

And with a beautiful, maniacal laughter, he darted away the memory hallway, dancing, spinning, opening and closing does randomly just for the entertainment of watching doors open and close. Motion, my friends, was a lovable thing, to quote imaginary high-school boys with especially dazzling colors for hair.

Bill then opened another door, where he found a hilarious tape of the young boy without his Pine hat being coursed for dear life by a harmless Chihuahua, climbing a tree in escape then finding himself trapped, sharing the experience of many cats out there.

Slam. In this other one, the preteenager was scratching anxiously his leg moments before noticing he'd stepped on a particularly vicious anthill.

Slam. In yet another, Dipper accidently insulted a teacher during a test.

"Oh, man! I love this place!" Bill rejoiced as he was busy commenting to no one in particular, drying away tears of laughter the size of marbles from his single eye. "What a circus this kid's life turned out to be! Messing with him has been incredibly fun!"

But with a sharp snap of his fingers, the whole maze of thoughts and memories turned dark. Reality slowly faded back into existence, and elements from a shared room between brother and sister appeared back as if to fill it.

It surely was dark outside, or so it seemed peeking at the triangular window, for the bright light of the sun hadn't even begin to rise yet. Or was it now? It was hard to tell in a world within dreams. And in this world within dreams laid two 12 year-old children, still asleep, not the least bit aware or anxious about a demon's presence.

"Aw, look at them!" Bill whistled while playing with his cane. "So vulnerable! Like little kittens! Just a single snap and they'd be gone!"

As if to answer his silent wish, a thousand knifes materialized out of thin air and aimed at the sleeping children. How funny, he though. There they were, sleeping so peacefully while their life were only hanging by a single, merciful thread. In a minute, it could all be gone. A real blessing it was, to sleep. It sure was.

"But this would be boring!" He shrugged, still speaking to seemingly the empty space. The threatening blades disappeared from the same void it had awoken, leaving once again the adorable pair of harmless twins to sleep in utter peace.

"You kids deserve something a little more spectacular. Man," He strangely giggled, "I can't wait for the end of the world! Things are really going to get weird!

That being said…" He continued, though leaving the end of his sentence to the unknown. To be honest, it had been fun – messing with that kid. What an opportunity he'd had, making such a handsome deal with that blondie. He even got to take a charming trip through memory lane! But the fact remained: he was still a threat, you know. And, well, yes, it was true that leaving things as they were would eventually get rid of him, with the deal and all. Also, messing with anything else might change the course of events and mess up his plans. So, he could just leave the matter alone, really.

"… Nah, that would be boring!" He added after a reflective pause. "What harm could he eventually do to me anyway? It's not like history was already written in the form of twenty minute long animated episodes anyway, right?"

The triangular shape wasn't speaking to the empty space anymore.

"… Right?"

…

Receiving no answer however, a giggle ran through him once more as his attention was pulled back towards the Pines kid.

"Let's shake things up a little bit, now shall we? Let's see what happens when I mess with your craziness factor."

The demon pulled out a lever out of God knows where, a lever that oh-so happened to bear three levels; puppy love, stalker, and of course: crazy.

"Go ahead, kid!" Bill stated devilishly as he broke the mechanism's handle by directing it towards its extreme. "Dance for me!"


	11. Chapter 11

Let's all give a shout out to "A very angry ravage", who's comment about his life not being complete without an ending to this story drove me to write this next chapter the same night I read his comment.

 **Chapter... Er... I forget, what chapter is this again...?**

Wham.

What a beautiful day. Sunshine, birds singing, flowers blooming, everything really you could hope for during your summer holiday. On days like these, it was good to be on summer vacation.

Wham.

What was that noise…? Thought a part of Mabel's glittery brain. The young girl slowly awaked from slumber after a well-deserved night of sleep. Her hair, of course, was a mess, and her pajamas still barred scares from previous sleep-overs. But she liked it that way, you know. It gave her wearing a pleasant smell.

Wham.

Ah, but she were eventually fated to wake up, wasn't she? And the yawn she had just manifested was merely further proof of that fact. Shamefully giving up on sleeping for an eternal period of time, she rose from her sheets and directed herself towards the door of her shared room.

Wham.

Oh, but wait! A shiny object on the edge of her wardrobe caught her not fully-awakened attention. Her camera. Ah, yes. Her camera. She hadn't used that in a while, had she? Her parents would surely scowl her for that. It was important, they said, to keep track of your exciding life every step of the way. Needless to say, she'd obediently put together a scrap-book in honor of her servility. It was agreed, then. She would take her faithful camera with her that very day.

Wham.

She asked herself though, as she twisted the door knob and wondered down the stairs, what sort of fun activity she would come across on this glorious day. She hadn't seen a snake in while. Snakes were fun. She wished for a snake, then. Or a snack, depending on the circumstances. It was funny that those two words resembled each other in such a way. She wondered if she'd ever have the occasion to make a pun on the matter one day.  
When she reached the end of the hallway however, something caught her attention. Remember that strange banging you heard earlier? Yes, that one. Don't even pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. I wrote it about five times in the last paragraphs. Well now Mabel knew where it originated from, for her beloved brother was busy.

"Haha!" the eager boy yelled as he happily threw himeself once again against the entrance wall. "Haha!" he continued, repeating the same dance a few times in a row like it were the best thing he'd ever occupied himeself with. Flies were really onto something, he seemed to aknowledge.

"Mabel!" Wendy called upon noticing her, "I think Dipper is broken…  
\- Yea!" Added Sooth. "It's usually funny, but I'm starting to feel bad for him... The little dude's been doing that for a while now; I think he's trying to walk out the door..."  
As if to add to the handyman's last declaration, Dipper suddenly seems to find the floor very attractive, both in the scientific and non-scientific definition of the term. But of course, as of any decent broken toy worthy of the name, he kept rather joyously walking towards the imaginary door he strived for, which was obviously in front of him, only this time sideways.  
"Hehe..." giggled Sooth, forgetting about human empathy for a minute there to the profit of sheer amusement. "On second thought, now he's sideways, this gives a whole new perspective on how entertaining this is. Like playing the same videogame all over, just with a different skin.  
\- Guys, this is serious!" Intervened Wendy, upset about the population's lack of reaction and ESPECIALLY at a certain little girl that had apparently found in her twin brother's behavior a decent reason to practice her filmmaking skills. Dipper was her friend after all, and she was worried. "Something's wrong with Dipper! Shouldn't we call a doctor?"  
Incedentally - and, also, rather ironically - a wild Stan appeared at the corner of the hallway, possibly on his way to the bathroom and visibly very non-preoccupied with the commotion.  
"Grunkle Staaaan!" Shout out Mabel a her great-uncle, praising his good timing. In fact, to be honest, Wendy's argument made sens, and her filmmaker's instincs were starting to wither away as she slowly starting to ponder the question of Dipper's health. But admitting she couldn't differenciate her brother's behavior when he was just happy-go-lucky and when he was mentally ill was slightly embarrassing. Therefore, seeking advice from an old man with trust issues and a slightly sadistic side to him soudned like the best course of action.  
"Grunkle Stan, in you WISE opinion, has my bro-bro been acting weird lately?"  
And Stan, who had obviously been bored long before anyone had ever had the idea to adress him, turned an oh-so-obviously-bored look towards his step niece, then, since she happened to mention it, to whatever you'd call that child bouncing of the floor like a fish in desperate need of oxygen who'd never been happier in his life. Stan stared at the young pre-adolescent as the boy didn't react to the bug he'd accidentaly swallowed because of his wide open mouth. Then, in some very distant memory of his non-interested mind, he seemed to vaguely recall something involving a prank, concluding that no matter what… _This_ … Was, it wasn't any of his business. He'd just coincidentally stumbled upon this sequence of events because of his quota in needs concerning the bathroom due to his obviously young age. So in all reasonable logic, the same sequence of events could very well panel out without his participation. Besides, the kid looked healthy.  
"Nope," he answered in short, "Nothin' wrong with him at all."

And then proceeded to the bathroom.

Mabel being satisfied with that answer, now that her ethical judgement of the situation was out of the way, she resumed her filming activity. She would call the following footage "My brother has a brain tumor - the sequel".  
And just in time, to, for the constant mumbling the damaged boy was uttering were now turning into words as his specie had just figured out how hands can be used as tools to assist you in standing back up again.  
"But… She's amazing!" resumed Dipper, as, apparently, this was following a rather complex reasoning. In the next phase of his developpment, he was seemingly walking around in circles like he had just done a scientific discovery. "How can I have been so blind? She's fantastic!"  
In a surprising turn of events, he suddenly turned towards his sister's filming camera with intensity, and addressed her with a: "Mabel, do… Do you think she's go out with me?"  
He bursted out in laughter like he'd just said the best joke in the multiverse.  
"Nah, you know what? I'll just ask her directly."  
And before Sooth, Mable, or even Wendy could ever try to stop him, he turned around to face to wall and whammed once again with full force against it, truly believing that's where the door stood. "Haha! Oh man, this never gets old!" he yelled. "I'm okay – no, I'm BETTER than okay!" And somehow, following that last declaration, Dipper did, in fact, manage to walk out the famous door he'd been desperatly looking for. And all his friends and family stoikly starred on his way out, perhaps doubting there choice of not going after him upon hearing a care tire almost run over the happy child.  
"I'M OKAAAAAY!" they nevertheless heard.  
"Is... Dipper going to be okay...?" said Wendy, worried about the danger they'd just set off into the wild to run free.  
"I sure hope so!" Answered Mabel with a professional tone, "I can't wait to show him this video once he's back to normal. I can make a fortune through blackmail!"  
"OH MY GOOOOOOD!" resonnated the fan-girl's flavor of Dipper's screaming, "PACIFICA! THERE YOU ARE!"


End file.
